


Easter Sunday

by dokidave



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, boy sex, drugs use, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidave/pseuds/dokidave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why don't you two get a room?" someone shouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easter Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> //throws this on the ground and walks away  
> happy annual 4/20 crenny  
> this year, with bonus style! woohoo!  
> this was based on/inspired by these two posts on tumblr:  
> http://spoonfulofpandas.tumblr.com/post/72483245827/  
> http://spoonfulofpandas.tumblr.com/post/72600218021/  
> thank you so much for inspiring me and helping me through my terrible year-long writers block, i love you  
> enjoy

"I can't believe Wendy dumped me again."

"Oh god, not this again."

"Kyle, you don't understand! I love her!"

"I know you do, Stan. But she dumped you _two years ago_. You're just drunk."

Stan laughs. "Yeah, I am."

They're quiet for a few minutes. Kyle turns his attention back to his gameboy while Stan is distracted by the music around them. Just a few more battles and Kyle's favourite Meditite will evolve.

"Kyle."

"What, Stan."

"We're at a party, Kyle."

Kyle rolls his eyes. "And?"

"You can't just sit on the floor and play fucking Pokemon. You should drink with me."

Kyle wrinkles his nose. He doesn't usually drink, and when he does it's always something bottled and fruity. They don't have anything fruity at this party. "Why should I?" he asks.

"Because it'll be fuuuuuuuun," Stan sings. When Kyle doesn't answer, he adds a, "Come ooooooon," and starts to pull Kyle to his feet.

Kyle sighs and snaps his gameboy shut. The things he does to keep Stan happy.

They hit the kitchen and there's a shot glass in front of Kyle before he can even browse the selection. He sniffs at it and wrinkles his nose. "Stan, what is this?"

"It's a shot, just throw it back, go!"

"Stan, I don't know--"

"Do it! Fucking take the shot!"

"Stan, I don't know what I'm doing, isn't this supposed to taste gross?"

"That's what the chaser is for!" Stan says, sliding Kyle a glass of coke. "Just throw it in the back of your throat and follow it up with the coke! Do it do it do it!"

Kyle takes the shot, and makes a disgusted face. "...Oh my god that was awful, give me the chaser."

"Haha, yeah! Right on, dude!" Stan cheers and claps Kyle on the back.

The coke is dropped into Kyle's hands and he downs it with a grimace. That was the worst thing he's ever tasted.

Well, close to the worst.

"Alright, now do another!"

He glares at Stan, and then at the shot glass. "Fine, but only if you do it with me."

"Right on," Stan says, and pours two fresh shorts. "Down the hatch."

They tip their glasses back and slam them back on the table in time.

Kyle's vision fuzzes around the edges before he spots the two liter of coke. He grabs it up and starts swallowing mouthfuls.

His mouth burns and his lips tingle and his head is swimming.

Stan just grins at him.

"Okay. One more."

* * *

Cartman's booming laugh crashes through the music before he starts choking on his own breath. Kenny rubs his back as he coughs his breath back into his lungs.

Cartman isn't the brightest drunk, which Kenny finds fucking hilarious. Nothing is better than watching the usual calm and diabolical Eric Cartman come undone at a few drinks.

He pats Cartman's back a few more times and scans the crowd around him. It's a full house, to say the least. And a full yard. And a full shed. It's a good thing his parents are out at their own party.

 "So how about this turn out, am I right? With so many pretty ladies around, what are we going to do with ourselves?" He nudges Craig Tucker beside him with a wink. Craig just grunts.

"Well," Cartman starts, "They'll all probably fawn after you, like always, and leave nothing for the rest of us poor lonely men."

Clyde scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, just because none of them want to go home with a fatass like you, doesn't mean the rest of us aren't just as hot as Kenny."

"Aw, Clyde! You think I'm hot?" Kenny asks.

Clyde shrugs with a, "Yeah, sure."

"Am I hot enough for a kiss?" Kenny leans forward gives Clyde a good old Flynn Rider smolder.

Clyde gives an overly mischievous grin as he stands and makes his way toward Kenny. His lips barely brush the corner of Kenny's mouth before he's yanked back by the waist and into Craig's lap.

"Don't be so fucking lush," Craig says.

Clyde giggles and buries his nose in Craig's neck. "Don't be so fucking jealous."

Kenny stands. "I think Craig here needs another drink."

"Suck a dick, McCormick," Craig says, with a flip of his finger.

"Can it be yours?" Kenny asks with a wink. Craig just frowns at him as he walks away.

"Cartman, do you want to take another show with-- woah."

Kenny stops halfway through the doorway, and looks.

He catches Kyle's eye, but they don't stop what they're doing.

"What was that, Kenny?" Cartman yells. His voice calls Kenny back to his senses.

"Never mind," Kenny says. "I'm going to bring you a shot."

"Thanks, Kenny."

Kenny quickly pours three shots and fucking scrams. It's a little too hot in that kitchen for him to stand idly by.

"Gentlemen," he says, as he passes out the shots at takes his seat. "Sorry Clyde, boss's orders say you can't have any more."

Clyde watches unhappily as they throw back their shots on a count of three.

* * *

"Yeah, alright, go Kyle!" Stan cheers. He pours two more shots.

"But," Kyle says. He leaves it hang in the air a second before continuing. "Only if I get to kiss you afterwards."

Stan gives Kyle a hard stare, before nodding with a grin. They hit the shots and take a second to breathe before anything else.

Then Kyle says, "Come here," and tugs Stan towards himself by the shirt. "You have to get this nasty taste out of my mouth." He tips Stan's head up by the back of his neck and kisses him.

It escalates quickly, and Kyle has Stan pushed up onto the counter, pinned to the cupboards with Stan's legs wrapped around his hips.

Stan's fingers tangle in Kyle's hair, get stuck as he tries to pull them through. Kyle's moans get lost behind Stan's lips.

Kyle notices Kenny standing off to the side. He locks eyes with the blond and grins against Stan's lips. He makes a bit of a show of kissing Stan's lips and touching down his chest before looking back to Stan.

Kyle leans into Stan, watches Stan's flushed face down his lashes. "Pull my hair again," he says. He slides his hands down Stan's jeans, feeling his ass through the denim.

Stan whines and pulls weakly on Kyle's hair. Kyle's nose drags down his neck, and then there are teeth in his throat. His lungs shutter behind Kyle's fist in his shirt. He tugs harder on Kyle's hair.

He clings to Kyle, clawing and tugging at his clothes and hair while Kyle nuzzles in his neck and grinds between his legs.

"Kyle, jesus christ," Stan breathes. His heart is beating so hard he feels like it might burst. "We should get out of here; I'm going to rip your fucking clothes off."

"Mmm," Kyle hums. He latches his lips to Stan's neck again, sucking hard.

" _Kyle, goddamnit_ ," Stan hisses. His shirt rides up as Kyle wraps his arms around his waist. He hefts Stan off the counter and they stumble out the back door. They only make it past the shed before they're on the ground behind it.

Kyle is on top of Stan, their legs are tangled in the grass, and they kiss hard enough to bruise. Stan tears at Kyle's clothes, and at his own, and soon enough they're writhing in just their underwear.

And, soon enough, Kyle is taking Stan's off with his teeth.

Kyle feels Stan's skin with his hands, along his stomach and his hips and his thighs and back again. Stan _pulls_ at Kyle's hair as Kyle goes down on him. Kyle's tongue is hot and his cheeks are hot and his lips are hot and it's all Stan can do not to come _right now_.

Stan whimpers and chews on his lip. "Kyle, in m-my pocket, in my jeans."

Kyle lifts his head, with a tender kiss to Stan's head, before sitting up. He digs in Stan's jeans, tossing his wallet and keys on the ground before he finds what he's looking for.

"Stan, why did you bring lube?"

Stan shrugs. "I need it, don't I? Don't criticize me for being prepared."

"You're not prepared, yet," Kyle says, popping the top on the lube. He locks eyes with Stan while he squeezes it into his hand.

Stan shuts his mouth. His face is hot, and so is the rest of him. He can't look away from Kyle's face, his eyes, he looks so damn... _lustful_. Determined. Sexy. Alluring. Ready.

And then there's a cold finger pressing at his ass. He chews his lip and tries to relax as Kyle circles him, teases, and then pushes inside.

He winces but Kyle kisses him. He holds Kyle's face in his hands, gets lost with Kyle's tongue in his mouth, focuses on anything but the fingers wriggling their way inside him.

Kyle strokes a hand through Stan's hair and kisses him softly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll taste it," he whispers.

Stan huffs, a dark pink taking his cheeks. "Why do you have to talk like that, dude, its fucking embarrassing."

Kyle smirks and presses a kiss to Stan's forehead. "You like it." He slicks himself with the lube and pushes carefully into Stan.

Stan digs his nails into Kyle's shoulder blades, his teeth clenched hard. By the time Kyle is all the way in, Stan is panting and there are deep red lines down Kyle's back.

"Fuck," Stan breathes. He's shaking and his head is swimming and it _hurts_ but Kyle is so fucking warm, and he wants it, _he wants it_. "Fuck me, Kyle, _fucking go_ , move, _please_ ," he whimpers.

* * *

"Craaaig, how is it fair that you can drink all you want but I have to stop?"

"You'll understand one day when you have kids, Clyde."

"What is that supposed to mean!" Clyde crosses his arms and turns away from Craig.

Then a song comes on that Clyde _loves_ and he's not mad anymore, and drags them all onto the floor for a jam.

After a song or two Kenny comes back up to Craig and offers him a pill and a glass of water. "After you take the pill, drink the whole glass of water."

"Why, what is it?" Craig asks. He rolls the pill between his fingers and inspects it.

"It's magic," Kenny says, grinning when Craig gives him a wary glare. Kenny rolls his eyes and says, "If you don't trust me, then don't take it, give it back to me." He holds out his hand.

"No," Craig says, and he downs the pill with half the glass of water. He drinks the rest before shooting a text to Token to make sure Clyde gets home safe. He's not sure how coherent he'll be in an hour.

"Dance with me," Kenny says. He smiles with his lip caught between his teeth as he drags Craig into the crowd.

After about fifteen minutes, Craig's head starts to spin a little. Colours start to jump out at him and the crowd starts to _breathe_. And Kenny isn't nearly close enough.

They're dancing on each other, but it's not enough. Craig takes Kenny by the waist and soon they're grinding against each other and it _feels_ so good. Craig's hands touch Kenny all over, up his sides and under his shirt and down his hips and then they're grabbing at his belt loops because if he doesn't hold on then Kenny will float away and oh god, he might never see Kenny again if he floats away.

He hugs Kenny to his chest and Kenny wiggles in his arms until they're back to front. Kenny holds Craig's hands against his chest and they keep dancing. At least they think they're dancing.

Craig buries his face in Kenny's hair, and jesus christ, his hair is _so soft_ , has it always been this soft? And it smells good, mmm, it smells so good. He runs a hand through it and tugs Kenny's head to the side.

"Mm, Craig, what are you doing?" Kenny asks. It doesn't hurt, but everything is sideways. It's funny, actually. He laughs and leans into Craig's chest. Craig is so warm and sturdy and handsome and Kenny loves touching him.

Craig smells his hair again, and then past his ear and down his neck. Kenny moans, and it vibrates straight through Craig's veins. It sings through his whole body, his entire soul, and all he wants is to hear it again.

Craig licks Kenny's neck and Kenny sighs. Craig does it again and again and Kenny shudders. He presses himself closer to Craig's chest. He's filled to the brim with a honey-type glow and everything is so pretty and the music feels so good and so does Craig. The bass pounds in Kenny's head and Craig feels _so good_.

Kenny can't remember ever being anywhere but right here, with the crowd surrounding him and the ceiling closing in on him and the music beating through his heart and his ass pressed so tight to Craig Tucker's pelvis.

"Why don't you two get a room?" someone shouts. All either of them can do is numbly agree as they're pushed off the dance floor (the living room) and into the hallway.

They're amazed by what they see. The walls seem to flow like water and the carpet seems equally as dangerous. They make their way carefully down the hall, tiptoeing the whole way so as not to fall to their deaths.

By the time they reach Kenny's room they're out of breath and giggling up a storm. They're holding hands and neither of them have shoes on. The carpet squishes between their toes and it's so fucking fluffy and soft they want to swim inside it.

* * *

"Tell me how much you want it," Kyle says. He nudges inside, softly, not enough.

Stan grits his teeth and drags his nails across Kyle's back again. He watches Kyle arch into it, his eyes flutter shut, the soft sigh that escapes his lips.

God, Kyle is so attractive.

"If you don't stop teasing me and just _fuck me_ I'm going to punch you in the _teeth_. I need you, Kyle. I need you to fucking _destroy_ me."

"Hmm." Kyle hums with a smile. He licks and sucks at Stan's neck and starts to move. He's slow, as deep as he can get, making sure Stan is ready for what he's asked for. "Turn over," he says, in that low, dragging voice that Stan loves to hear.

Stan scrambles to his hands and knees, and then Kyle is back inside him. He cries out and Kyle pushes him into the dirt. Over and over and over, Kyle shoves into him, hard, merciless, abusing his sweetest spots. He tears at the grass around him, struggling to keep his breath or his bearings.

The smell of sex is thick in the air. The fingers in Stan's hip feel like they could bruise. He's not sure anymore what's supposed to hurt and what's supposed to feel good. _Everything_ feels good. He can barely hear the party beyond the sounds of skin hitting skin and Kyle's breathless voice.

Kyle is close, he's so close, he loves Stan so much. He bites back his words and reaches for Stan's cock instead. Kyle won't finish first. He needs Stan to come completely undone, to fall to pieces in his hands, to shutter and scream beneath him. He needs to see that _shiver_ run down Stan's spine.

"Say my name, Stan," Kyle says.

It takes him a second, but Stan manages a, "K-Kyle."

"Say it again."

"Kyle."

"Again."

"Kyle," Stan says. He can't keep his voice even. He can't focus. All he can think about is _Kyle. Kyle. Kyle._

He comes, chanting Kyle's name. Kyle follows not long after, spilling himself in the dirt. He might have been drinking, but he knows he doesn't want to clean up this mess.

They fall to the ground together, Kyle spooning Stan to his chest. They breathe, just breathe, for several long minutes. Kyle brushes a hand through Stan's damp hair, kissing his neck softly while they lay there.

After a while, Stan says, "I don't know, Kyle."

"You don't know what, Stan?"

"I can still move pretty easily. If I recall, I'm pretty sure I said to destroy me." He passes a look over his shoulder and they lock eyes.

Kyle stares down at him for a long, long second, eyes boring into Stan's. "If you can walk all the way home, I'll bet you won't be walking anywhere else for a while."

"I'm so scared," Stan says. Kyle shoves him and Stan laughs. In truth, he is pretty damn sore, but he's also pretty damn drunk. There's no way they're only going once.

They throw their clothes on and manage a rushed, "See you at school tomorrow," to the guys inside before scurrying home.

* * *

They seem to have the same idea as they strip off the rest of their clothing and lay down on the ground. Oh god, that's so good. That beautiful, wonderful, luscious, carpet. They roll around until they smack into each other by accident.

They're so stunned by each other that all they can do for a minute is just stare at each other. And in the next minute they're a kissing tangle of limbs.

It's sloppy and without ceremony, but god, it's the best kiss either of them has ever had. Their teeth click together and their lips go raw but they don't stop. They press together, skin sliding against skin, and they're both panting, shuddering messes after what feels like hours but is actually minutes.

They're both hard, so hard they don't even know what to do. It feels like their first time all over again; eleven years old and overwhelmed by their own bodies.

Craig wraps a fist around both of them and strokes slowly. They press their foreheads together and breathe each other's air. They're completely consumed in each other. All that exists is Craig's hand and the carpet and their skins and the big, loud colours in each other's eyes and faces.

They each come, and Kenny is so captured by the sight of it that he sinks down Craig's body and licks it all up. He licks and licks until Craig is clean and hard again. Craig's voice is like gorgeous, magical music to his ears. Every noise Craig makes, every noise Kenny's mouth makes against Craig's flesh rings in the air.

Kenny doesn't stop. It feels too good to have something so warm and throbbing touching his tongue; he wants as much of it in his mouth as he can fit.

Craig is too caught up in his own blissed out world to even consider returning the favour, but it isn't like Kenny minds, or even notices. He's getting plenty of his own kicks just with Craig's cock in his mouth. It isn't long before they've both come again, and they're lying on the carpet, staring up at the pulsing ceiling.

Both of their mouths are dry, and it takes Kenny a while to realize that the feeling is thirst. They need water. "Craig, oh my god," he says.

"What," Craig says back. He sounds tired but there's no way either of them is sleeping for at least a few more hours.

"Let's go out to the park," Kenny says excitedly. Nature is so much more exciting tripping balls than while sober. And the _trees_ and the _birds_ and the _squirrels_ and all those _flowers_. And the pond! Because that's right, he's thirsty.

"Okay," is all Craig says.

They hop up over Kenny's bed and out the window. They run all the way to the park. They touch the trees and the grass and the flowers and the water and everything that is able to be touched and _it's so much fun_.

When they wake up the next morning, naked and floating on a raft in the middle of Stark's Pond, all they can do is laugh and high five before they paddle back to shore.

**Author's Note:**

> dont do drugs kids, stay in school  
> the rest of this is artist comment so if you dont care your job here is done, good job soldier  
> hey so yeah, if you made it through that, i would v much appreciate some reviews maybe? about what im doing right or wrong or where you think i could improve (or if youre an old reader, where you think i HAVE improved) or any helpful tips or anything you want  
> im going to try to get back into the swing of things and i really hope to improve a lot in the next year so yeah, lets see where that takes me (the next thing i currently have planned is about the goth and vamp kids awww yea amirite)  
> so, yeah, heres my annual crenny and hopefully my kick-off to a new better year  
> thank you for readying, i love all of you, mwah


End file.
